The Melody of Phantoms
by DivineDescent
Summary: AU in which Sam and Dean start a new life in a small town. Castiel is a local Professor with a secret past of his own. Will the three be able to avoid the phantoms of the past they're trying so desperately to escape, or will they be drawn into an ageless vendetta that refuses to end? This is Destiel, so if you don't like that kind of thing, turn away now.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: **__I thought I'd try something a little different here and attempt an AU. I've never done this before, so please have patience with me. AU's require a completely different approach than Canon-verse and I'm not sure I'm good enough, but I want to at least try. I'm mostly a meta writer so this is a huge challenge for me and I'm a little scared. I mixed things up a little bit by playing with the typical ways Dean and Cas are generally portrayed in most AU's I've read. I hope you're okay with it. _

_Even though this isn't canon-verse, the story still centers around the paranormal, just in a different way. I don't read or watch anything that isn't in the horror, sci-fi, or paranormal genre, so attempting to write something normal would be impossible for me, but I hope you like the story I'm gonna tell._

_(Friendly reminder that there is no __**current**__ Cas/OC or Dean/OC in this story, so don't panic at the way the beginning sounds. Take a quick look at my profile if you get concerned.) There is a large focus on Cas' past relationship which is necessary to the plot. However there will be __**nothing sexually explicit, nor will any sexual aspects of that relationship even be discussed.**_

_Rated M for future chapters, but that may be pretty far off. The only immediate warnings are for attitude and maybe a bad word or two, description of violence, and of course M/M flirting._

_As usual, I don't own any of the Supernatural characters, I'm just borrowing them for a little while._

**Chapter 1**

"Really, Lieutenant? Why do you always call me to deal with these people?" Castiel pulled himself up from his sofa, placed a bookmark in the book he was reading and carefully placed his reading glasses down on the table. "Where are they?"

He wrote the name of the location down with a huff and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "You have to be kidding me. I thought I'd finally gotten that place taken off all the lists."

"Obviously you forgot a few or there wouldn't be a couple of morons wandering around out there. Mr. Wallace is pissed." Lt. Rachel Darrinport reported through the phone.

"I'm sure he is." He dropped the pen on the table and shook his head. "I'll meet you out there." He started to hit the end button, but put the phone back to his ear. "Oh, and Rachel, tell your officers to grow a set already."

Rachel laughed into the other end of the line. "Not everyone agrees with your findings professor, including me. Some weird shit goes on out there."

"Yeah, well I'd tell you to grow a set too, but I'm a gentleman, so I'll remain silent. But you people need to issue me an honorary badge or something with all the times I have to get up in the middle of the night for this nonsense."

"Don't lie; you know you're looking forward to seeing me in my uniform." He could almost picture her smirk through the phone.

"Your flirtation is duly noted, but I'm not that easy." He hesitated a moment. "But you owe me dinner, and possibly a movie."

"I think I can handle that. See ya in 30, professor."

Cas ended the call and changed into a pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt. He had to dig his old hiking boots out from under a pile of goods to be donated to the local Salvation Army. Waterproof boots were not really required of him any longer. It had been months since he'd packed all this stuff away, he simply hadn't had the heart to take them down to the donation center yet.

He moved a dusty old blanket out of the way and looked at his old equipment case and frowned. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he decided he'd never open that case again. He'd quit, given it up, moved on to more acceptable pursuits. If he were honest, he'd have to admit that he missed it a little. He thought about going back once or twice, but it didn't take him long to remember that there'd been a damn good reason that he'd quit in the first place.

* * *

Cas and Rachel stood in the doorway of what remained of an old barn watching two men creep around, their backs to them, completely unaware of being watched. Cas almost laughed as the taller of the two banged his head on a beam that had partially collapsed. After all the years of neglect, Cas found it astonishing that any part of the structure remained standing at all.

Finally Rachel got her fill of watching the two stumble around and decided to make her presence known. "Okay, put your hands up and turn around slowly." The two men jumped in surprise, but did as they were told and turned around, very slowly, hands raised in the air.

Cas stood quietly beside Rachel, trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face in light of how these two very large, grown men nearly jumped a full foot in the air at the sound of her voice.

"You're both under arrest for trespassing. You have the right to remain…"

"Sure sweetheart, we know the drill. We weren't trespassing, just got lost, that's all." The shorter one of the two flashed a Hollywood smile at the petite, blond haired officer.

Apparently the smile worked because Rachel lowered the gun, her eyes darted to the electronic gadget tucked into the taller one's breast pocket. She elbowed Cas and grinned. "Yeah, lost is a good word for it, buddy." She holstered her weapon. "I'm Lt. Darrinport of the Sanscrit Police Department." She nodded towards Cas. "This is Dr. Novak, he's a professor at the local university."

The shorter one took a step closer to Cas, green eyes shining in the harsh beam of Rachel's flashlight. "So why does Mayberry PD bring teachers along to arrest trespassers?"

Cas rolled his eyes at the apparent obnoxious idiot. The guy was obviously a full grown adult with the mentality of a college freshman. "Because unfortunately, I seem to be the one they call when the actual officers' time would be wasted by chasing wanna-be Ghostbusters off private property."

The green-eyed man took another step closer to Cas, narrowing his eyes a bit, trying to appear threatening, although Cas got the impression the guy was really just trying to be amusing, or at least amusing to himself. He looked the professor up and down in a mildly suggestive manner before taking a step back and smiling. "You don't look much like a professor, professor. Never saw one in flannel before."

Cas watched the taller guy take a deep breath and cover his eyes with his hand, apparently used to the cocky one's antics. "I am sorry if you find it an offence to my profession, that I chose not to wear a suit and tie to retrieve a couple of dumbasses from the muddy ruins of an old barn."

"Jeez, touchy. It was just an observation, relax." He looked over at the taller man and whispered, a little too loudly, "dick".

The taller man shook his head and ran his fingers through his shoulder length hair to get the stands out of his face, then extended a hand to Cas. I'm Sam Winchester; he's my brother, Dean. I'm sorry you had to come out here this time of night, I know there are classes tomorrow."

Suddenly Lt. Darrinport's radio blared to life. After a few moments of back and forth with the dispatcher, she turned to the three men. "I really hate to do this, but I'm gonna have to take you both in." She pulled out a pair of handcuffs and held it up. "I don't want to use these, but if either of you gives me any trouble, I will. The owner of this property has made it very clear that he has no tolerance for trespassers and there are signs saying so, clearly posted." She pointed to two very visible 'no trespassing' signs along the remains of what once was a barn door. "So again, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can…"

"Wait Rachel." Cas suddenly caught a glimpse of the shiny silver gun Dean had tucked into his waistband. "Mr. Wallace has given me permission to bring my students here any time I want. He'll be okay as long as I'm here. I'll babysit long enough to make sure they vacate the premises while you take care of your 10- whatever."

"It's a domestic disturbance." Dean offered with a frown. "Some guy's probably beating the shit out of his wife while you two waste your time harassing us."

Cas took a step forward and nodded. "Yes, you're right. That's the point. If you had simply picked up the phone and called the police station to let them know your plans, they would have told you that this location is off limits and referred you to me for a list of places that are legal to investigate. By being inconsiderate to the local authorities, you have taken them from their actual purpose, which is protecting people, not dealing with the likes of you." Cas was now so close to Dean that he could feel the man's breath on his skin.

Rachel stepped up, put a hand on Cas' shoulder and pulled him back. She looked at Dean and shook her head. "For your information, Mr. Winchester, It's _Mrs_. Tomlinson that has the temper issue and it's her husband that ends up with the bruises. But congrats on your code knowledge. You might wanna work on your sexist assumptions, though."

She turned back to Cas. "You sure you wanna stay with these two. I don't like leaving you alone with them." She glanced back at the two. "And I'd really like to lock the short one up for the night. Ronald and Joe are already en-route. They can handle it without me."

"Hey, I'm not short." He glanced at his brother. "Damn it Sammy, at least slouch a little."

Cas ignored him and put his hand on Rachel's back, turning her toward the patrol car. "I'm a big boy, Rae. I think I can handle these two. When Winnie gets like that, you know it take a female officer to calm her down. I'll be fine. Go."

She opened the car door and got in. "Fine, but dinner, my place Saturday. Seven o'clock. Don't be late." She closed the door, started the car and stuck her head out the window. "I'll even throw in dessert if you promise to wear that suit and tie you claim to own."

Cas smiled and waved. "Go Rachel. I'll see you Saturday." He turned back to the two men as Rachel drove off, lights flashing.

"So, the hot professor's banging the lady Sheriff." Dean grinned, proud of his ingenious deduction.

"She is not a Sheriff and no, I'm not _'banging'_ her." He narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Did you just call me hot?"

Dean's eyes widened, the smug expression gone from his face. "What? No, of course not."

Sam laughed. "Yeah Dean, I think you did."

"Well, it was just one of those Freudian slip things then."

"Do you even know what that means?" Sam shot him a mocking grin.

"Shut up Sam."

Cas shook his head at the back and forth banter. He pointedly ignored Dean and addressed Sam. "So, what are you two doing here?"

"It's just what it looks like. We heard the stories and thought it'd be an interesting place to investigate. We used to work with a small group in Kansas. We'd heard the lore and decided to check it out."

Cas rolled his eyes. "If you had bothered to check the sources, you would have discovered that the stories are fabricated, as is the case with most legends. It originated as a campfire tale to scare small children."

Dean huffed and looked at Cas. "Come on. What do you teach anyway, Cynicism 101?"

"I teach several classes, actually. Modern folklore and Mythology, Bible as Literature, and plain old English lit for the more mundane students. I also teach a continuing Ed class on paranormal theory."

Dean shrugged. "Well, you know what they say: Those that can, do. Those that can't…"

"Dean, stop it." Sam turned to Cas. "He's not really an ass; he just plays one on TV." He smiled, apparently having had enough of his brother's mouth.

"His sarcasm only masks his own self-inflicted inferiority complex." Cas smiled at Sam who nodded in agreement.

Dean shot them both dirty looks. "No way. You don't get to gang up on me." He turned to Sam, scowling fiercely. "You don't even know this guy. You gonna side with him over your own brother?"

Sam nodded and looked from Cas to Dean. "Yup, think I am."

Cas interrupted before another round of sibling squabbling wasted any more time, this time addressing Dean. "I'll make you a deal; stop pretending you're an ass and maybe we can all learn something tonight."

Dean shrugged. "You willing to stick around and investigate with us? Because I could probably teach you a few things too, professor." He wiggled his eyebrows in a playful manner.

Cas grinned and took another step forward, enjoying the discomfort the closeness seemed to cause the other man. "I highly doubt it." He took a step back, but continued to look Dean in the eyes as though a challenge had been set to see who'd blink first. "You don't seem to have the right equipment."

"Alright, that's enough." Sam pulled his brother back and gave him a disapproving glance.

Cas turned to Sam, his voice quieter than it had been a moment ago. "You don't have the right equipment to do a proper investigation. You also lack discipline and have no understanding of basic procedures."

Dean seemed to finally find his voice again. "Hey, we know procedure."

Cas fought the urge to step back into Dean's personal space again, if only for Sam's benefit. "Then why is it that you are carrying a bottle of holy water and salt?" He pointed to the small backpack that was laying, open on the ground. "And why do you have a gun? Do you plan on shooting a ghost? Or is it loaded with silver bullets in case you happen across a werewolf?" He took a step back and shook his head. "What I see here are two guys that have watched entirely too much television."

Dean felt the need to defend himself and his little brother. Too much television, hell in his mind, he didn't get to watch enough television. "It's basic protection stuff and we got it from books, not television."

Cas questioned him. "Why would you want to keep something away if you are trying to capture evidence of its existence? That thought process seems counterproductive to me."

Sam shrugged and looked at Dean. It was funny to actually see someone not back down from Dean for a change and his brother's reaction was priceless. "The guy's got a point."

"Yeah, I guess. But…"

"And put away that flashlight. Even ten year olds know not to use white light on an investigation." He pulled a filtered light from his pocket and handed it to Sam. "How long were you two members of this _'group'_ and how many of your investigations included drinking liquor from a silver flask?" He waved to the flask Dean was pulling from his lips.

Dean quickly put the flask back into his jacket pocket and huffed.

When Cas was convinced Dean had gotten the message, he continued. "What I will do is tell you the real story behind this property."

He led them to a picnic table that he used when he brings students out.

"_In 1936 this property belonged to Jeff Wiggons. He had two daughters and a son. His wife died during child birth, leaving him to raise three children alone in an economically depressed era. Things were hard. Mr. Wiggons sent his son to live with his sister's family and on November, 26__th__ of that year, he shot his two daughters and set the place on fire, burning to death himself. His sister found the note with his plans in his son's belongings, but it was too late." _

"The owner of this property is that man's son. He legally changed his name to Wallace to avoid the notoriety. He is now a 77 year old man who does not want his family's tragedy to be spread across the internet and used for thrills by adrenalin junkies hoping to catch a ghost."

"So no witch coven, no mass murder. The internet says there were satanic rituals here and the land is cursed." Sam questioned.

"No, none of that is true. Just an old man's personal loss and tragedy. A real story with real victims. It's not someplace to be trampled on like a playground."

Sam nodded. "I get that, I do. But are there ghosts here? Surly that incident alone had to leave some type of psychical trace."

Cas smiled. "I guess that depends on your point of view. If you want to see a ghost, you will. If you don't, then you won't"

Dean finally spoke up, his words seemingly sincere for the first time that night. "So I take it you're not a believer."

"It's not really that black and white." The corner of his lips raised a little as if he were trying not to smile at Dean. "We can't disprove the existence of ghosts. It's not scientifically possible. But until I see irrefutable evidence, I tend to err on the side of caution instead of foolishly accepting fairy tales as reality."

_AN: Thank for reading. I hope you liked the first chapter. I'll try to update each Friday. Please let me know what you think so far._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Dean stuck his head through the small kitchen door. Sam's head was buried in his laptop, a book open to the side. "Hey Sammy, You taking Lit this semester?"

Sam looked up over the computer at his brother and sighed, a smile on his face. "Nope, saving that one for later. Why, you hoping to score a certain teacher's autograph? Want me to sneak a few pictures of him so you can cuddle with them at night?"

"Funny Sam. Real cute." Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "Just knock it off and quit being a bitch." He huffed and sat down at the small kitchen table, twisting the cap off a beer. "Dudes probably junkless anyway."

Sam looked at him over the computer. "Yeah, I'm not really the one interested in his junk, Dean."

"Neither am I, Samantha." He took a sip of the beer and put it down on the table, something obviously on his mind.

"So what is it? What's bothering you?" Sam pushed the computer aside and looked at his brother.

"I know that you just do the ghost hunting thing for me and all. Well, I appreciate it, but I know it's not really your thing. So I guess this is your way out."

Sam could see past the 'couldn't care less' act his brother was putting on. He'd seen the light dim a little last night when Professor Novak suggested he find another hobby before they'd parted ways. The guy was a serious dick, but Dean didn't exactly help matters by pretending to be a big, dumb, smartass jerk when he was anything but. Dean was so much more than he'd ever give himself credit for. "Dean seriously, you packed up your entire life to come out here with me so I could go to school. So yeah, a couple of hours in a cemetery every now and again, not such a big deal." He shrugged. "Besides, I kind of like learning the histories, and the stories are fascinating in a slightly morbid sort of way."

Dean flipped the beer cap at Sam and smirked. "Dude, do you really have to geekify everything?"

Sam threw the beer cap in the trash can next to his chair. "You mean ghost hunting wasn't already geeky? Cause I'm pretty sure paranormal investigation ranks pretty high up on the geek-o-meter, right after LARPing and chess club."

"Maybe, but I hear there's a picture of you next to the word 'dork' in the dictionary." He tried to laugh it off, but even insulting Sam wasn't doing the trick this morning. "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about it anymore any way. No way we'll be able to investigate around here. Not with Professor 'stick-up-his-ass' policing the area."

"I don't know Dean." Sam nodded to Dean. "Maybe, maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"I did a little digging after you passed out last night. _Dr_. Novak…" He stressed the Dr., hoping Dean would catch the title. "…is one of the most respected names in the field. It seems he's the academic go-to guy for all things paranormal. About a year and a half ago he just packed it all up. Now he refuses to be involved in field study for personal reasons he's never disclosed. If anyone knows why, they're not talking."

Sam slid the computer to Dean so he could read the screen. After a few moments, Dean looked up from the computer, his expression skeptical. "I don't know where you get 'maybe not' out of this. He clearly thinks we're a bunch of losers. And I quote:" He read from the screen_. "The field of scientific, paranormal study had been muddied by thrill seekers and attention hounds looking for their five minutes of fame." _

"I'm not so sure. He obviously has issues with the one's doing it for show, but so do I, actually." Their group had been offered a chance to do a local television show a few months back. They had a discussion about the pros and cons of publically airing their cases and unanimously voted against it, agreeing that wasn't the direction they wanted to take. Sam had been the loudest voice against it, claiming that their work would become about the show and pressure to produce results could become a problem. "I get the feeling that with the right push, he may come around."

"Okay, I'll bite. How do we push?"

Sam came around and opened up another file on the computer. "I got an email from Cindy. There's a case about fifty miles from here."

Dean looked the email over. "A private residence?"

"Yeah, she forwarded me some pictures and a recording of a telephone conversation she had with the lady who contacted her. They're legitimately scared. I picked up an EVP from the conversation without having to use filters or amplifiers. I think there may be something to this."

Dean passed the computer back to Sam. "Maybe so, but Dr. Novak said that we don't have the proper equipment so…"

Sam's laughter interrupted Dean's sentence. "I'm pretty sure he was talking about you."

Dean looked at him, confused. "Huh?"

Sam stopped laughing and tried to stay serious for the moment. "Nothing, never mind. But that's just it. He probably does. These people need help. We don't have the tools to help them. We need him. He's a teacher. Trust me; he'll jump at the chance to mold us into proper ghost hunters. It's a teacher thing, they can't help themselves." He slid the computer back to Dean. "His teaching schedule is the third tab over. Go talk to him about it today, since you're off."

Sam grabbed his backpack headed out the door, but stuck his head back in. "Oh, and try not to stare at his ass too much. If I noticed it in the dark, imagine how obvious it will be under florescent lighting."

"Blow me, Sam."

Sam cringed. "Dude, don't be gross." He laughed and slammed the door shut, leaving Dean with no chance of getting the last word in.

* * *

Cas looked up from his teaching podium to see Dean Winchester take a seat in the back row. He thought about talking a little longer about the suspension of believability in modern literature, or maybe something even more boring to see how long it took the other man to fall asleep in the desk. He decided not to punish his students any further for the day, regardless of how much fun it could be.

He flicked off the overhead projector and closed his book. "I think that will be enough for today. Don't forget to be working on your essays. I'll need them turned in by Thursday. Late assignments will not be accepted and earn you a zero."

He walked down the aisle, straight to Dean. "Hello, Mr. Winchester. Have you decided to audit my class?"

Dean stood up and held out his hand, the way Sam had the night before, mentally chastising himself for not doing it last night instead of being a dick. "It's Dean. Call me Dean. Mr. Winchester is my father."

Cas accepted his outstretched hand and shook it. "Okay Dean. Why are you here?"

"I kind of need your help with something." Dean was doing his best to be polite, but the guy was making it very difficult.

"My office hours are clearly posted on the same web page where you found my class schedule, as is the phone number to schedule an appointment."

Dean really wanted to just tell this guy off, but he promised himself he'd do what he had to get his help. After listening to the phone conversation, the Monroes needed them. "Oh, sorry. I was just off today and…"

"Dr. Novak, when can I come by your office to work on that extra credit assignment?" A pretty brunette interrupted, casually leaning into him.

"I have given you all the instruction that you need to complete that assignment, Casey. There is no need to visit my office." He took a step back.

Dean watched as the girl exaggeratedly pouted her lips and walked away. He arched his eyebrow and grinned. "Damn Dr. Novak, what kind of extra credit do you hand out?"

"The kind that requires a two thousand word essay explaining character development and when, if ever, character regression is acceptable. As it relates to the book they've chosen, of course." He folded his arms. "Again, what can I help you with, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling in thought. "I didn't think character regression was ever acceptable." He caught the knowing smirk on the teachers face and quickly tried to cover. "Not that I know what that is or anything." He had a rep to protect, after all.

Cas cocked his eyebrow. "It is acceptable on occasion. It depends on where the author is intending to take the particular character and there is always a chance that the character in question may be revolting against any previous development. Basically, trying to be something he's not because he's afraid to face who he really is. Even though it may upset a few of the readers, it is in fact, acceptable. While I'd love to talk endlessly about this subject, I have another class to teach in a few minutes. So again, what do you want, Dean?"

"There's a case about an hour from here and I thought, well actually Sam thought that we could use your help." Dean knew he had a better chance getting Cas to help for Sam's sake, no way the guy was doing anything for him."

Cas frowned and drew in a deep breath. "There is also a notice on that same page that explicitly explains that I no longer participate in paranormal investigations. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming down here." He started to turn away.

"Then why did you stay last night? I saw you man, it wasn't just to rip us a new one. You like being out there." Dean was grasping at straws now.

Cas turned back around to address him. "I stayed because you had a gun."

Dean flinched, not expecting that answer. "Dude, it's not like I was holding it to your head."

"No, but considering your demeanor and the fact that you were drinking, I assumed that you lack the proper permit to carry a concealed weapon in this state."

"So you only stayed to save my ass? How'd you even know I had a gun? The sheriff didn't notice it."

Cas huffed, getting impatient with the man in front of him. "For the last time, she's not a sheriff. And while she has good intentions, you weren't far off with your Mayberry reference." He paused as if thinking for the right words. "As for me knowing, I'm a paranormal investigator. I'm very well trained to be aware of everything around me."

"You mean you were." Dean spoke coldly, hoping it would have the desired effect. He'd spent some time doing a little research of his own before he'd come down here.

Cas looked up at him and nodded, his blue eyes almost sad. "Yes, I mean I was."

Dean pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket with a flash drive that contained the pictures and audio of the phone conversation. He handed it to the teacher. "Please just look it over. These are elderly people and they're scared. They need help and everyone else is just writing them off as senile."

"Have you considered that maybe they are?"

"Please just look it over. My number's on the envelope." Dean started to walk away, but Cas called out to him.

"Why do you do this? What's your reason?"

Dean looked back and shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know. I've thought about it, long and hard actually. I really don't have an answer. It's just something I can't _not_ do."

"I'll look this over. No promises." Cas stuck the envelope in his bag as Dean nodded before walking out the door.

**AN: Thank you for reading. Hope you're liking it so far. Please review if you can. I know I said that I'd be updating this on Fridays, but I may update sooner as long as the chapters remain short-ish. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **_Thank you so much for your reviews and follows. I hope you like this chapter. _

**Chapter 3**

Cas stood outside Rachael's apartment holding a 6 pack of Bud light. "Hello Rachel. I brought beverages."

"Hey professor. I expected you to cancel." Rachel stepped out of the way to give him space to walk in. She took the beer from his hand and set it on the counter. "That is your usual MO." She folded her arms and eyed him suspiciously. "So, spill it. What's wrong?"

"I'd rather not discuss my unending emotional issues on an empty stomach." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

She looked at the counter and shrugged. "Pizza and beer apparently."

Cas laughed. "Classy as always."

"Yeah well, nothing but the best for the guy who usually stands me up." She plated him a couple pieces of pizza and grabbed him a cold beer from the fridge, putting Cas' 6-pack in to get cold. And since you're not wearing that suit and tie that I doubt even exists, you don't get dessert."

Cas looked down at his perfectly acceptable jeans and a t-shirt advertising the campus poetry club he sponsored and smirked at her. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his attire. He shook his head and pulled a chair out for her before sitting down himself. "If this beer were in a red solo cup, I'd think we were back in my old college days. Greasy food and alcohol, the staples of higher education." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

She put her pizza down and turned to him. "Cas, what's wrong. I know you and I can see that something's bothering you."

"I'm going with them, Rae." He shrugged, trying to make light of the statement. "They need my help."

"Cas, no." She moved her chair closer to his and put her hand on his knee. "Look, I'm a cop. Yeah, this is a small town and we tend to be a little backwoods, but I still have a cop's instinct. They seem like bad news."

He had his doubts about the two as well, but this was more important. "I've spoken with Dean, and while he's a little rough around the edges, I think his heart's in the right place."

She rolled her eyes. "You have to be kidding me. He's a cocky little, pretty boy who thinks he can get whatever he wants by flashing a smile and wiggling his eyebrows." She took a bite of her pizza and washed it down with a sip of beer. "His heart may be in the right place, but his eyes were somewhere else entirely."

"If you are concerned that I'm such an easy target for someone like that, then tell me why your identical flirtations haven't gotten you anywhere." He looked at her waiting for a response and smiled victoriously when she had no comeback except a smirk. "Wherever his eyes may be, there is no need for you to worry about my virtue."

"Why, because you're straight? Because I don't think that little detail seems to matter to him." She shrugged and picked up her pizza again.

"Because I am unavailable." He pulled himself from the table and went to the fridge to retrieve another beer.

"Cas, it's been over a year. She wouldn't want this. It wasn't your fault."

He handed her a fresh beer before sitting back down. "We both know that it was very much my fault."

She shook her head. How many times could two people have the same conversation and the words never change? "None of us knew. I was closer to her than anyone, including you, and I didn't know. How can you think that you're at fault?"

"I should have known. Just leave it, Rae. You and I both know that this line of discussion never ends well." The humor was gone from his voice and the slump in his shoulders was the tell-tale sign of defeat.

"You know, you just accepted the doctor's diagnosis without any clinical evidence. I wasn't there that night. God knows, I wish I was, but from what I saw of the footage, it very well could have been the alternative explanation."

He looked up at her, water welling in his eyes, but unwilling to fall. "You and I both know that doesn't make me any less guilty."

"So what? You just go off with these two strange guys?" She pulled at his arm to get him to look up at her. "Look at you, Cas. You're falling apart just thinking about it."

"There were EVPs on the audio. I wrote them down to show you." He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slid it over to her.

The color drained from her face as she read the scribbled words. "Cas, this… Did someone else find out?"

"Only six people know what really happened that night and only the two of us are alive to talk about it. Just me and you. And you wouldn't have had any knowledge of the third EVP. I never shared that with you."

"Well, that settles it." She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "You're not going."

He smiled up at her fondly, knowing that she only meant to protect him. "Yes I am. I have to."

"No, you don't have to." She grabbed his hand and held it in hers. "Has it even crossed that thick skull of yours that you were the sole survivor? That just maybe you're unfinished business? Don't you think this is just a little too much of a coincidence to just _be_ a coincidence?"

"Don't be ridiculous." He pulled his hand away from hers. "If this is legitimate, all it means is that these people are in danger.

"Yeah, and so is anyone stupid enough to get involved. These guys show up out of nowhere and suddenly they have a case very obviously connected to something that happened over a year ago?" She shook her head, pushing the plate of uneaten pizza away from herself, suddenly losing her appetite. "I don't think so. This is either a set up or something worse. Look, I have some vacay time due. If you're determined to go, at least let me come along with you."

He smiled a genuine smile for the first time that evening. "No offense Rachel, but you call me to hold your hand just to chase kids off Wallace farm which, by the way, isn't haunted. This investigation would be way beyond your comfort level."

"I never told you the last thing Sara ever said to me." She stopped to make sure she had his attention. This was something she'd never shared with him before and wasn't sure she could say it twice. The bond she'd shared with Sara was something that few people could understand. "She made me promise to take care of you. Please don't make me break that promise. It's the last thing I can do for her."

"How was she able to…?" He lowered his eyes to his hands. "I didn't know she ever regained consciousness after…" He couldn't finish the sentence. He couldn't see any way Sara could have possibly spoken to Rachel, but she wouldn't lie about that. Maybe things weren't what he thought. Adrenaline, fear and panic can alter perception.

"You were her whole world, Cas. She loved you so much. She wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger."

He looked up at her and shook his head. "I'm sorry Rae, but I can't _not _do this. I can't let them walk into a nightmare unaware and unprepared. They aren't qualified to handle a case of this magnitude, but I am. Please try to understand." He reached out and gently picked up her chin to look at him. "I know that I made you a promise not to pursue this thing, but I just can't live with anymore blood on my hands."

"So, you're gonna tell them the whole story then?"

"I'll tell them what they need to know."

"Which means that you won't tell them anything and try to deal with this on your own." She shook her head, worry apparent on her face. "Sweetie, when has that ever worked?"

"I will do my best to discuss the details that they need to know, but my personal business is my own." He hated that she was so worried. She was the only person that he had to lean on and she'd been his salvation, a friend when he didn't deserve one, when he didn't even want one. "I can tell that Sam is sincere and, I don't know why, but I trust Dean too. He may be a cocky, little pretty boy, as you said, but I think that underneath the attitude, he's a good person. He just doesn't want anyone to know it. I'm sure he has his reasons."

* * *

Cas came from around his desk and sat on top of it, facing the two men. "I'm going to work with you on this, but we do it my way, clear?"

Sam nodded, a little surprised that the professor actually agreed considering his course load and all the extra things he filled his time up with, according to campus gossip. Of course campus gossip wasn't to be relied upon for the most part, but according to 'word on campus' Dr. Novak never stopped or even slowed down. When he wasn't teaching, he was volunteering on campus or in the community. No one had a bad word to say about him. "Sure, your way. That's why we asked for your help."

Cas nodded at Sam. "First of all, none of this, and I mean none of it, gets posted on any website. Not Facebook, not Twitter…" He looked at Dean specifically, an eyebrow raised. "Especially not Tumblr." Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't comment.

Relieved that his brother didn't take the bait, Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah okay, but how do other people know how to find help if we don't publicize what we do?"

"You can publicize what you do without airing people's dirty laundry." He got up from the desk and moved back around to the other side. "Giving the details only serves to instigate other, less moral hunters into hounding victims into letting them investigate as well. People who have been victimized by paranormal activity don't need a bunch of fools knocking on their doors like sketchy, ambulance-chasing lawyers." He exhaled a deep breath, visibly angered by the thought. If they want their story told, it's their place to tell it, not ours."

Cas continued when it was apparent no one was going to argue. "Secondly, leave the salt and holy water at home. No crosses or pentagrams either." He saw the look of confusion on their faces. "These things don't work anyway and can create problems of their own. We do not need to scare these people further by coming into their home armed with exorcist-type nonsense."

Cas didn't wait for the snarky comeback that he saw brewing on Dean's face. "Do either of you have any type of psychological or mental issues that we may need to discuss?"

Sam choked in surprise at the very blunt way the professor worded the question and looked over to his brother who looked like he was about to explode, having been quiet for so long. Come to think of it, this was the longest he'd ever heard his brother go without the need for some type of sarcastic statement.

"Of course not, you…" Dean clenched his jaw and took a breath, forcing a very fake smile. "No. We both keep our marbles locked up safe and secure."

Cas cocked an eyebrow, noticing how Sam's eyes moved to the floor at his brother's answer. "I certainly hope so. Lastly…" He looked at Dean. "No guns, knives, or weapons of any kind. I mean it, I will not bend on this issue."

Once again, he didn't wait for Dean's reply. "Good, since we're all in agreement, Thursday Sam and I will visit Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, get some more information, do an initial walk thru and conduct a proper interview."

"Why just you and Sam?" Dean asked. Sam wasn't even interested in this, not really. This guy was just trying to piss him off now.

Sam smirked. He couldn't help himself, not really. "Because he likes me better than you, obviously." He laughed, but immediately regretted the words. This was Dean's thing and the Professor was trying to push him out, leave him on the side.

Cas saw that Dean was hurt by the decision he made, and that wasn't his purpose, however it was the first glimpse of honesty that he'd gotten from the man the entire time he'd been in the office. Maybe he was right. Perhaps underneath all the BS, Dean really was sincere.

He addressed Dean. "Because as you even noted, they are scared, elderly people. They do not need three very large, strange men hovering over them."

"Sam's bigger."

Cas almost laughed, Sam did laugh. "Yes, but he also comes across less intimidating, less combative, and more professional. You are an acquired taste." Cas didn't miss the way Dean's eyes narrowed at him, proof in point, actually. "You are sarcastic and crude and show a complete lack of respect, not just in your words, but also in your body language. You even breathe aggressively."

Dean smirked, narrowing his eyes even more. The guy wanted intimidating body language, he'd give him intimidating body language. "Yeah whatever, asshat." He got up and shoved his chair to the side and walked to the door. He'd had just about enough. "Because coming across as a rigid dick is so much better." He walked through the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Sam stayed in his seat, but rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He should have left Dean at home. Not that the professor wasn't instigating Dean the entire time. It felt a little like pre-schoolers picking on each other till one started crying and running to the teacher.

Cas looked at Sam and continued as if nothing had just happened. "These people need help. Whether imagined or not, they are afraid. We'll need to leave by 1:00pm. I'll pick you up." He motioned to the door. "If there's nothing else, I have a class to get to."

Sam stood up and held his hand out to the teacher. "Sure. I'll see you Thursday and thanks again for helping us. Really."

* * *

Dean watched Cas walk down the hallway and shook his head, turning towards Sam. "The guy totally hates me."

"Well, I wonder why?" Sam huffed at his older brother. "You act like a complete ass anytime he's around. From his point of view you are combative and disrespectful. The least you could've done is sit up straight in the chair and take your hands out of your pockets. You're like Mr. Hyde as soon as he's within fifty feet of you."

"No, absolutely not. You don't get to blame me for this one." Dean shook his head. "I tried being nice to him. He's a dick, plain and simple."

"Yeah well, the students here love the guy. The police here love the guy. From what I hear, I wouldn't be surprised if they held an annual parade in his honor. Maybe if you let him see the real you, he'd let you see the real him." Sam slung his heavy book bag over his shoulder and headed down the hall to his class, but stopped to look back at Dean. "In other words, cut the crap."

* * *

"Hey Rae. I brought you lunch." Castiel walked into Rachel's small office carrying a white paper bag and sat it on her desk, along with a still steaming cup of coffee.

Rachel eyed the bag suspiciously before pushing it to the side. She looked up at Cas, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. "And what exactly is it that you need me to do for you, Dr. Novak?" She folded her arms over her chest and waited for him to answer.

"Is it so hard to believe that I just happen to have a free hour and thought I'd spend some time with the prettiest police lieutenant on the force?"

There was a brief moment of absolute silence before Rachel burst out in laughter. "Yeah, now I know you want something." She composed herself before continuing, however the smile remained in place. "Even though I'm the only female officer in a hundred mile radius, and I think Steve may actually be a little prettier than me, I'll still accept the compliment. But again, what do you want?"

"I need you to run a check on the Monroes before Sam and I drive up there Thursday." He handed her a piece of paper with their information on it. "I just need to know if there's any past I should be concerned about."

She reached into her desk and pulled out a file. "Already did it." She winked at him and tossed him the file. "We all had our place on the team." She smiled sadly, looking down to avoid his face. She'd never investigated with them, but she did all the background checks on clients for them, made sure the team wouldn't be putting themselves at risk if the clients happened to be 'not so law-abiding' and also to see if anyone in the client's immediate circle of friends or family stood anything to gain by setting the victims up. It was astonishing, how often victims of supposed paranormal activity were really the victims of fraud; perpetrated by those they trusted. "There's nothing, though. They're just a sweet old couple trying to live out their golden years. He's a retired CPA and she's been a lifelong housewife. No kids, no relatives. Everything they have goes to charity after they pass."

He frowned at the paper he held in his hand. "Just good people. I almost hoped…" He shook his head and placed the papers back in the folder.

"So why Sam?" She finally opened the bag Cas had brought and pulled out a sandwich, sliding half of it to Cas. When Cas looked up at her to start speaking, she cut him off. "And don't give me any line of crap about not scaring the old people, because we both know that's just bullshit. Why are you pushing Dean out? Saturday night, you said you trusted the guy."

"I also said that…" He looked at her over the half sandwich he was about to take a bite of. "How do you even know what reason I gave them?"

She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. "I have super-psychic mind reading powers." She laughed at the exaggerated eye roll she got from across the desk. "Sam called and told me what happened. He asked me to talk to you on behalf of his brother. He says that Dean isn't like what you think. Asked me to convince you to, and I quote, 'stop being so hard on him and just give him a chance.' end quote." She smiled at him and took a bite of her sandwich.

"Because I need to check everything out before I bring Dean to that house. He's hiding something, Rae. It's his business, but if there's even a small chance that…" He stopped and looked at her, silently hoping she got the point.

"You think he's hiding something like Sara was? You're trying to protect him, aren't you?"

He put the sandwich down and wiped his mouth. "I don't know. It's just… the way Sam looked when I asked if they had any psychological issues. I got the impression that Sam didn't exactly agree with Dean's answer. I don't want anyone else to get hurt by this thing. I have to be sure first."

"Well, you're a good judge of character so I get it."

"There's one more thing, Rae. I need you to get the medical histories of the Monroes. You don't have to tell me anything, just find out if there's any issues I should be concerned with." He looked down, avoiding the look he knew she was giving him.

"You know I can't do that. Your interview Thursday is set up to determine all that. Isn't that the whole point of going up there early?" She frowned, knowing exactly why he was looking everywhere but at her.

"My judgment of character isn't as good as you give me credit for, Rae. Please do this… for me." He finally looked up at her and grinned. "If you do, I'll put on that suit and tie just for you. Take you up on that offer of dessert."

"Really? You think that you can convince me to break the law by bribing me with fancy clothes and ice cream sundaes?" Her tone was joking, but the frown on her face was anything but. While it was nice to see a little playfulness in him, he was asking her to break the law and just expecting her to do it. Well, he was about to find out that she wasn't that easy either. "No Cas. First of all, I'm not one of your infatuated, co-ed groupies who swoon just looking into those pretty blue eyes of yours. Secondly_, your_ flirtation is duly noted, but if I actually called your bluff, you'd be running out of here like a scared little girl." Rachel didn't get angry at Cas much, and a part of her understood, but… "Lastly… never mind, just leave. Really, I have work to do." She turned around and looked out the small window, her office suddenly seeming too small.

Cas walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I was just kidding. I don't even own a suit and I'm using my only tie to keep that raggedy old chair the college refuses to replace, from falling apart. You know that. I'm sorry. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

Rachel turned around, tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. "I know. Really, I do. But you can do this. You didn't make a mistake, Cas. You didn't miss anything with Sara." She pulled back and cupped his cheek in her hand. "I would have known and you would have too. The doctors were wrong. I won't help you lose faith in yourself by getting you those records. I'm sorry."

He exhaled a deep breath and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping towards the door. "I'll see you later. Sorry I upset you. I promise to never offer you dessert again." He smiled at her and opened the door.

She stopped him and pushed the door closed and put herself between Cas and the exit. Looking up at him, her hands shaking, she nervously picked at the collar of his shirt. "If the day ever comes that you really mean it, you know I wouldn't turn you down." A tear fell down her cheek. "I know it's pathetic and wrong, but you're all I have left too."

He wiped the water from her cheek, willing his own tears not to fall. "There are moments that I think I really do, Rae." He ran his fingers through her hair, gently pushing the strands from her face. "But I think we both know that it's a really a ghost we see when we look at each other." He shook his head and frowned, pulling himself back. "Neither one of us needs that kind of pain." He gently took her hand from his shirt collar and moved her from in front of the door. "You're my best friend. I don't know where I'd be without you. I'm sorry I hurt you." He opened the door and walked through it, knowing that by tomorrow they'd be back to normal. They always were.

_**AN:** Thanks for Reading. The next chapter is almost typed and ready to go. I promise this isn't a Cas/Rachel story. Just hold out a little longer and you'll see where that's headed. As always, review if you have the time. _


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **_Thanks again for the reviews. You are keeping me going here. So, two chapters in two days. I think it's a new record for me. Actually, the last chapter would have been up sooner, but my internet was down for a couple of days. I hope you like this chapter. It's really just a lot of talking, but some things just have to be talked about, right?_

**Chapter 4**

"Um, Professor Novak, could I talk to you for a sec? I promise I won't take up too much of your time." Sam stood in the doorway of the Cas' tiny office, book bag slung over his back.

Cas looked up at Sam and smiled. "It would seem that the distaste for making appointments must run in the family." He motioned for Sam to come in. "I appreciate the interruption, in this case. Your visit will happily delay the unavoidable task of reading some of the most atrocious essays known to man." He took off his glasses and sat them atop a pile of ungraded papers.

Sam sat down in one of the chairs across the desk and raised an eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"

"Apparently I didn't do the best job teaching the material. I think my eyes might have started bleeding had you not saved me just in time. What can I do for you, Sam?"

There was no sense trying to skirt the issue, so Sam just blurted it out. "Please take Dean with you tomorrow."

Cas shook his head. "No, absolutely not. But if you can't come, I'll handle it on my own. I would however, like the opportunity to show you how a pre-investigation works."

"See, that's just it. I really don't care how it works. It's Dean you should teach." All he really wanted was a paranormal free life with a good job, a wife, kids, maybe even a dog. He looked up at the man, his eyes pleading. "Man, I just do this for Dean. I don't even really like it, but it makes him happy and…"

Cas put a hand up to stop him. "Just stop. I won't take him. I'm sorry."

"Why do you hate him? I mean I know he was kind of rude to you and Lt. Darrinport, but he's not really like that."

"I don't hate him. That's not why I won't take him." Cas sighed and got up from his desk to close the door to his office. "While your defense of your brother is endearing, it's not necessary. My decision was based on something else entirely."

"Sam turned in the chair to look at the professor. "Is it the flirting thing? Cause he even flirts with me and I'm his freakin brother. He doesn't mean anything by it. It's just…"

"A self-defense mechanism, I know." Cas finished his sentence, smiling. "Relax, I don't care about that. Actually, I find it rather amusing." He lost his smile and sat down on the top of the desk, facing Sam. "I just need to be sure it's safe first, before we involve Dean."

Sam pursed his brows, not sure when he'd entered the twilight zone. Did this educated man really believe there was something dangerous out there? That ghosts could actually hurt people? He almost had to stifle a laugh, except the serious look on the professor's face scared the hell out of him. "Okay, let me get this straight. You think there's something there and it's not safe for Dean. So what? You and me are expendable, but Dean's too precious to risk?"

"It's _'you and I'_, and no, we're not expendable." He hesitated a moment, knowing Sam thought he was nuts already, but so be it. "Sam, this isn't a normal case. It's something I've dealt with before and the thing that's in that house, it preys on people who don't have their marbles locked up as securely as they pretend, as your brother so colorfully put it."

"Wait, Dean's not psycho or anything. He's just… he's been through a lot recently and he's dealing with it 'Dean-style', that's all."

"Dean-style is exactly what this thing feeds on." Cas got off the desk and grabbed an old book off a shelf and handed it to Sam. "That's an accurate description of malevolent spirits and how they behave. Repression, guilt, co-dependency, use of drugs or alcohol as escape mechanisms; any of these things ringing a bell, Sam?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Your brother is the poster boy for unhealthy ways of coping with trauma. You asked me to help you with this case, and I will. But I need you to trust my judgment on this issue."

Sam turned the book over in his hand: _**'Demonic Possession: An Introduction to the Church's Teachings on the Practice of Exorcism in the Modern Era'.**_ Sam felt a chill run down his arm. He opened the cover and noticed a stamp for 'St. Raphael's Seminary' printed above the copyright date. He swallowed a lump in his throat and slowly put the book down on Dr. Novak's desk, not sure why he no longer wanted to touch it. "I think this is all a little above my pay grade."

"You're right, it is. That's why I agreed to help, but Dean stays home until we're sure it's safe. I won't risk everyone's safety just to please him _or you_."

"Yeah, okay. I'm gonna trust that you're not the one with a few marbles loose here and just accept that there's something to this. But you need to know that Dean's not a bad guy. Really, he could use a friend; someone to talk to that isn't me."

"I don't have time for friends, Sam." He put his hand over the stack of papers on his desk as an example. "I can help you with this case, but I can't help you with your brother. I'm no more qualified to be a therapist, than that flask of whisky he carries around is."

Sam, nodded and got up from the chair, throwing the heavy bag over his shoulder. "I get it. I'll let you get back to grading papers then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam started to walk out the door, but Cas suddenly felt bad for the guy. "What about you? Have you made any friends here yet, Sam?"

Sam turned around, a small smile on his face. "Well, I have Jess and now I know you, so I guess I'm working on it."

Cas reached over to a small corkboard and pulled a yellow flier off it and handed it to Sam. "There's an informal get-together planned for Friday night, a week and a half from now. It's for new students. You should take Jess, get to know some of the other students."

Sam looked at the paper, but tried to hand it back. "I'd like to, really I would, but on Friday nights, Dean and I usually hang out, you know, brotherly bonding type stuff."

"I'll make you a deal: You attend that party, make a few new friends, maybe check out some of the different activities offered on campus, and I'll babysit your brother. Deal?"

Sam grinned and cocked his head. "I thought you didn't have time for friends?"

Cas laughed. "I don't, but it just so happens that I'm taking my Continuing Ed call out to Brookside Cemetery that evening, kind of like a field trip. I want them to experiment with some of the newer technology that's available. Brian, one of my students, was dumped by his boyfriend a couple of months ago. He hasn't really been himself since and could also use a friend. I'll pair them up; maybe they'll hit it off."

"If you're gonna play matchmaker, you should know that Dean likes chicks too. Might be better to set him up with one of those." Sam looked down and immediately regretted the words, knowing how it made him sound.

"Sam, do you not approve of Dean's sexuality?" The words were slow and carefully chosen.

Sam shook his head. "No, nothing like that. It's just… Well, you're a guy. You know how we are. I mean, men are dogs. Dean gets attached and hurt and…"

"Last time I checked, I had no canine attributes what-so-ever, but I understand what you're saying." He smiled, relieved that he'd read Sam right, after all. He certainly hadn't pegged him as homophobic in the least. "There are a couple of attractive, single ladies in the class as well. But, if I were to be honest: If I had a brother that I was concerned about being hurt. I would prefer he become attached to Brian over the women. Brian's a nice guy. He just received his doctorate in engineering and teaches a few undergraduate courses here. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Dean's a nice guy too." Sam looked down and headed for the door.

Cas smiled. "I have no doubts about that or I wouldn't be offering to set him up with Brian, whom I both respect and admire. Do we have a deal?"

Sam smiled and tucked the paper into his bag. "Yeah, we have a deal." He walked out of the office and through the halls, stopping at the marble stairway to pull out the paper Dr. Novak had given him. It would be nice to make friends and have a normal college experience, but if and when Dean finds out it's a setup, all hell's gonna break loose.

* * *

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming." Dean put his beer down on the small coffee table and walked to the door. "Sheriff?" Dean smirked at the memory of how flustered professor blue-eyes got, insisting she wasn't a sheriff.

"Amusing Mr. Winchester. You're a one-man comedy hour all in himself." She pushed passed him and into the small living room.

"What do you want?" He looked down at his watch. "I have to be to work in fifteen minutes so…"

"I know that you don't have to be to work." She grinned at the deflated look on his face. "I'm the law, Dean. I know your little grease-monkey schedule. As a matter of fact, I know all about the secret that you're trying to hide away from beneath dirty cars." She paused for effect, grinning at the sour look on his face. "I know who you really are."

He glared at her, law or not he'd toss her out on her ass if she pushed him. "Fine, to what do I owe the pleasure of being big brother's most watched?"

"I'm here about Cas." She noted the lost look on his face. "Professor Novak… Cas is his first name. Maybe you should have put that into your memory banks before you started staring at his ass. Anyway, I'm here because I don't want to see him hurt."

Dean laughed and picked his beer back up, taking a swig. "Don't you think it's a little early for the 'I'll kill you if you hurt him' speech? I mean really lady, I haven't even gotten to first base _yet_." He put an emphasis on the 'yet' and winked at her for good measure. If she wanted to play, he'd play.

She eyed him up and down, smirking. He was nicely toned, but not overly muscled. Pretty eyes, full lips and long eye-lashes that completely contradicted the bowed-legs and tight ass. "You're cute, I'll give you that, but you're not his type. That's not what I'm here for."

He ignored the very obvious display of objectification. "Then please, do tell me what I owe the very un-pleasure of your company." He rolled his eyes at her. "Really, I can't wait."

"Sixteen months ago Castiel hung up his gear and left this ghost hunting business behind. You, my friend, have convinced him to get back involved and I don't like it."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, I think you may be blaming the wrong Winchester, sheriff. Sam's to blame for that one. The guy wouldn't piss on a fire for me."

She shook her head. "Nope. For some reason he likes you." She frowned. "He trusts you and I don't like it."

"Afraid of a little competition?" He could read jealousy when he saw it. Really, she was pretty. Long blond hair, pretty complexion, curvy enough. The chick was definitely offering it up on a silver platter. It made him wonder why the professor wasn't hitting that.

She huffed. "Like I said, you're not his type. Do I have to be rude about it?"

"Hell sweetheart, why stop now?"

She grinned. He was right, she was being rude. Hell, all this political correct business was hard work. "Look, I'm his friend. You, on the other hand, only want two things from him. One is help with this ghost hunting crap so you can bag a ghost and shoot yourself straight to reality show stardom. The other is to get in his pants. I'm not stupid Dean and neither is he. I actually care about him beyond all that. He's all the family I have."

Yeah, so maybe he deserved the judgment. He was essentially a stranger to them and maybe the flirting had been in bad taste at the time. "Look lady, you may think you know me, but you don't. What you may have read in that file folder, doesn't tell the whole story. So don't presume to know me, just because you happen to know the last job I had." He turned and pointed at her. "Which, by the way, isn't something I want anyone else to find out about."

"I didn't tell him and I won't. It's your business and believe it or not, I understand why you quit." She sat down on the small coffee table in front of him. "You're right, a file folder never tells the whole story, so why don't you tell me why I should trust you with my professor."

He realized that he wasn't getting rid of her without some disclosure, so he put his beer down and told her what she needed to know. "First of all, I'm not the celebrity type and I have no desire to get famous. I'm just a simple guy. I have no intentions of hurting Cas. I get that he's not interested. I'm just a flirt; harmless, I swear." He put his hands up to show his innocence. "It's just a simple investigation, probably just air in their pipes or something. What's the big deal anyway?"

She pulled a DVD out of the black bag she was carrying and handed it to him with a sigh. "This is the footage from his last investigation. This is evidence from an ongoing criminal investigation, so I'm trusting your discretion here. Don't share this with anyone else, including your brother."

He took the disk, but questioned her. "You aren't supposta let anyone see this, including me. By handing me this, you're tainting the chain of evidence. Now it's useless in court."

"This case would never go to trial anyway. He trusts you and he's a very good judge of character, whether or not he currently doubts it." She handed him the scrap paper Cas had written the EVPs from the Monroe phone conversation on. "He pulled these out of the recordings you gave him. After you watch the disc, you'll understand the relevance."

"You mean these two cases are connected?"

"It would seem so."

"Why the hell wouldn't he mention this?" He held up the paper. "Just Monday we were in his office discussing this case."

She frowned and head towards the door. "Just watch the video and I think you'll understand."

* * *

"Hey Sammy. How was class?" Dean smiled and handed Sam a beer before he even got all the way in the door.

Sam eyed him suspiciously as he plopped his school supplies down on the couch. "What's wrong? Did you do something to my shampoo again?"

"No, but it's been far too long since I did." He smirked at his brother. "Nothing's wrong Sam. Why would anything be wrong?"

"Because you never ask me how class was. I know you want something or did something, so spill it."

"Fine, you got me. I need a favor."

Sam nodded and sat down, exhausted. "Of course you do."

"I need something to 'come up' tomorrow so you can't go to the Monroes with Professor Novak."

Sam smirked and rolled his eyes. "Dean really. What? You want some alone time with him, so you can bat your eyelashes at him or something. I know you think you're irresistible and all, but please give it up, man." He knew Dean was still pouting about not getting to go, and he knew why, but if Dr. Novak was right and not completely off his rocker, believing there was something 'real' and 'malicious' in that house, then Dean really didn't need to go. As a matter of fact, he didn't need to have anything to do with it at all.

"Don't be a dick, Sam. I have more self-respect than that. It's something else. I found something out and I need to talk to him about it, alone."

"What?"

"It's nothing you need to know until I talk to him about it. Rachel brought me a file from evidence. It's the footage from his last investigation. I need to talk to him about it and I promised her that I wouldn't share it with you because of it being evidence in an ongoing police investigation." He saw the look on his brother's face and patiently waited for the impending demand for disclosure.

"Yeah, I get it, evidence and all, talk to him about it, but I don't think he's gonna change his mind about taking you." Sam noted the scowl on his brother's face. "Look, I tried talking to the guy and he just won't budge. You've convinced him that you're a jackass, now deal with the consequences." He knew it would go over much better if Dean continued to believe the professor just hated him. God forbid he found out the guy was trying to protect him. He'd blow a gasket, stream coming out of his ears and everything. Dean was the protector, not the opposite.

"Maybe you can't get him to budge, but I can. I promise to behave, but before anyone goes into that house, what's on that disk needs to be talked about. I ain't letting you step foot in that place until Dr. Novak and I clear some things up."

As annoying as Mr. Protective could be, Sam couldn't help but smile at the spark of the real Dean finally coming to the surface. "Dean, I can see where this is headed and it's not a good idea. Sometimes you try too hard and if this is part of a police investigation…" He patted his brother on the arm. "Dean, you don't need any more hurt."

"This is different, Sammy. What I found out, the reason he quit… It's bad."

"Yeah, I can tell by the look of _'I have to save this guy now'_ that you have written all over your face." He sat back, still studying his brother's features. "Dean, if this guy did something…" He had a hard time believing that a poetry professor could have some dark criminal past, but by the look on Dean's face, he had to wonder.

"He didn't do anything. Something was done to him and I just think that I'm the one best suited to discuss it with him."

Sam nodded, but the frown on his face was a sure sign he didn't agree. "Yeah, but just… Dean, you're not really the best one to be playing shrink. You have a boatload of your own issues."

Dean eyed his brother and sighed, getting up from the sofa. "Sammy, I'm fine. Really."

"No you're not. The fact that you're changing oil for a living is proof of that much." He turned to follow his brother's movements. "We came out here to start over, give both of us a fresh start. You try to save everybody, but just maybe you should save yourself first this time. If this guy's damaged, maybe we should just find the Monroes someone else to help them."

"Gee Sammy, thanks for the vote of confidence. Really, good job letting me know how much faith you have in me. I'm touched." Dean was angry. Sure, working at the garage was less money and a little dirtier, but it was easy and therapeutic. Something he needed right now. "I'll tell you this; if he's too damaged to be able to work this case, then so am I. So tell me, be honest; is it me or him that you're more concerned about?" The look of guilt and pity on Sam's face was all the answer he needed.

Dean walked back around the couch to stand over Sam. "Let me word this in a way you'll understand because you seem to be under the false assessment that this is open for debate. I am going with him tomorrow. You are staying home. That's it, end of discussion."

**AN:** _I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading and please review if you can. Chapter 5 should be up soon. By the looks of my hand written copy, it's quite a bit longer than this chapter, so it may take a few days. I am a really bad typist, not exaggerating. _


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: ** _Thanks so much for the reading and reviewing. To answer your question, yes we will definitely get to meet Brian in chapter 7. I think it will turn out very well _; )_. I thought that it was about time for Dean to turn the tables a little. It seems like the guy's getting a bad rap from both Cas and Sam. I hope you enjoy the chapter. _

**Chapter 5**

Cas stood on the porch facing both Sam and Dean. Dean held his keys in the air and shook them. "Change of plans. You and me are going and I'm driving." Sam shot Cas an apologetic look and shrugged.

"No Dean, you're not." Cas started walking down the stairs and almost got to the gate when he heard Dean tell Sam to go inside. He turned around and glared. "What the hell do you think gives you the right to tell everyone else what to do?"

Dean smirked and walked down the steps, pulling a shiny silver disc from his pocket. "In this case, it would be the sheriff." He waved the disc in front of Cas before sticking it back in his pocket. "Your girlfriend paid me a visit yesterday."

He looked wearily at Dean, his eyes an eerie combination of anger and sadness. He had no doubts about what that disc was. "What is on that disc is none of your business. It has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, well I think it does, and so does Rachel. She's delightful, by the way, a real sweetheart."

"You knowing, doesn't change anything. I'm not taking you to that house. Good-bye, Dean." Cas turned around and opened the gate, stepping to the sidewalk.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice." Dean followed him, arms folded over his chest.

Cas smiled and stepped directly in front of Dean, a smirk on his face. "Really? You might not like the hard way, Dean. You don't know me well enough to threaten me. I know a technique that can render you unconscious by using only two fingers. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"Yeah, that won't be necessary, I figured as much." He smiled and took a step back. "You don't know me very well either, professor. See, I met this guy at the State lock-up a few years back. Guy got busted hacking the NSA." He smiled at Cas again. "Impressive, I know. Thing is, we got kind of tight back in the day and he owes me a favor. So he set me up this thing where the contents of this disc…" Dean pulled out the disk and waved it in front of Cas again. "…gets simultaneously released to YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook: Oh yeah, let's not forget Tumblr." He winked and shot Cas a big grin. "This release happens at 12:01am professor, unless I stop it personally." He walked around to stand about an inch in front of Cas. "Can you say '_viral_', Dr. Novak?"

"Even you, wouldn't do something like that. You're bluffing." Cas refused to step back, not willing to give Dean the satisfaction.

"Oh, you think so? Take a look in my eyes and tell me if you think I'm bluffing." Dean took a step back, waiting for the answer. "Tick-tock, professor."

Cas narrowed his eyes, his breathing heavy. He wanted to punch something and Dean was the closest thing, but he wouldn't give the man that satisfaction, either. "Fine. Let's go." Cas moved around Dean and got into the passenger's side of a black Chevy Impala.

Dean got in and grinned at the very angry professor. "You are as smart as they say. Good choice." He started the engine, turned the radio up and pulled into the road.

After about thirty miles Dean came to a rest area and pulled in. For the first time the entire trip, Cas turned and looked at Dean. "Didn't you go before we left the house or were you too busy consorting with criminals to remember basic, human body functions?"

Dean turned the engine off and turned to look at Cas. Okay, here it is. I made that shit up. I saw what was on that disc and I'm not that much of a dick. I wouldn't share what I saw with anyone. Sam doesn't even know. But you and I, we need to talk about it before we get there. Whatever's at the Monroe house was speaking to you personally." He pulled the slip of paper Cas had written the EVPs on and handed it to him. "Don't you think that may be relevant? You have evidence of paranormal activity right on that disc. Don't you think that's something you should have shared?"

Cas shook his head. "I've never seen the footage. I don't know what is or isn't on that disc. Living it was enough, too much actually." He'd spent the past year trying to put what was on that disc out of his mind, forget about it. Nothing good could come from watching it.

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose before running a hand through his short hair. "Why the hell did you agree to help us with this case? There's no way you're capable of doing this."

"You don't know me well enough to determine what am or am not capable of. If I didn't think I could handle it, I would have called someone else to help you. I'm not an infant."

"But you presume that I am?" He noted the confused look on Cas' face. "Man, Sam and Rachel both spilled why you really didn't want me to come. Word of advice: Sam's worse than a girl, he can't keep a secret from me. And newsflash, Rachel is a girl, in case you haven't noticed. You don't get to decide what I'm capable of either. But with you, it's different. You could have told me, I would have understood." He looked out the windshield into the picnic area. "I do understand, so if you want me to turn this car around, I will. I called the Monroes and pushed the appointment back an hour and a half. Rachel's right, you shouldn't be involved in this."

"Dean, this case is a trap. It was speaking directly to me. You and Sam were pulled in because of me. There's no way I'm letting you walk in there alone. This isn't a leaky faucet or bad wiring, or any of the hundred other usual causes of false activity. It's not even a ghost. This is a demonic entity. They remember, they learn, and they become stronger with fear and feed off of every human insecurity that exists."

"Even more reason that you should have told us the truth." Dean sighed. He didn't want to be cruel. He could tell this discussion was uncomfortable for the guy. "Don't you think we would have all been safer if you'd just told us the truth from the jump?"

Cas shook his head. "Not a single night passes that I don't have nightmares. I still replay that night over and over again in my head. I can't just talk it over with people. Sara was ill. We didn't know until that night. Her personality had suddenly changed a couple months before that footage was filmed, but I thought it was just hormones or some other 'woman' thing. She became uncharacteristically sarcastic, rude, even started drinking. I should have known."

"You mean, she started acting like me?" Cas nodded and frowned, lowering his head to his hands. "Cas, I think you should watch the disc."

Cas looked up at Dean. "To what end? I did this." He picked up the disc and threw it into the back seat. More than anything he wanted to break it in half, crush it into tiny pieces, but he just couldn't. He took a deep breath and looked back over at Dean. "It's my fault that four people are dead. I don't need to watch a DVD to know that. What I can do, is make sure it doesn't happen again."

Dean reached his hand over and placed it on the other man's shoulder. "Hey, no. How can you think any of that was your fault?"

Cas stiffened and looked down at the hand on his shoulder and pulled himself away. "Because I knew there was something there, something dangerous. But instead of leaving and getting my team the hell out of there, I pushed it, taunted it. I needed evidence, something big that couldn't be refuted. We had a show…" Dean nodded. He'd already known. Sam found it that first day. "It became about the success, not the science. I killed four people so I could film a ghost."

He looked out the window, away from Dean. "I wish she had killed me too. Being alive, being forced to live with the guilt, knowing that no matter how much good I try to do, it will never make up for my sins; that's my punishment."

Dean wasn't gonna touch that one with a ten foot pole. He couldn't argue with the logic and he knew damn good and well that no words would magically change the guy's mind. "Can we kill it?"

Cas looked up, shocked. That wasn't what he expected to hear. "If we're to assume that the laws of physics still apply, then theoretically, energy can't be created or destroyed, so no. We can only make it leave."

Dean gave a sarcastic laugh and rolled his eyes. "So we help the Monroes by sending it straight to someone else. Wonderful. That's not messed up at all." He turned to Cas. "What the hell good are we anyway, then?"

"Congratulations. It just took you five minutes to figure out what it took the death of my wife and three of our closest friends, to make me see."

Dean frowned, not sure any of them should mess with this one. "Should we maybe call a priest or something?"

"Well, that would be ideal, but without absolute proof, all the church will do is send a priest to bless the house. Unfortunately, all that will serve to do is piss it off and make it even more dangerous." He could see the doubt on Dean's face now, possibly even fear. That was a good thing. Cockiness had its advantages, but not in this case.

"Then what are we even doing?"

"We are going to investigate. We find out what's there. We gather much of what the church requires, try to obtain evidence and be there to support the victims. That's all we can do."

He could see Dean's confidence waver and thought for a minute the guy was gonna tell him that he was going home. Instead Dean turned to Cas, a thoughtful look on his face. "So how do we keep from being possessed ourselves?"

Cas shrugged. "We make sure all our marbles are tied up safe and secure." He smiled at Dean, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I was wrong about you. You'll be okay."

"Look, I know what you went through was hell. I don't blame you for keeping it a secret, but if you need someone to talk to, you know, a friend, I'm here. You can talk to me."

"What I need, is a team to help me take this bastard out. I appreciate your offer of friendship, but I think it's better if we deal with this case, then go our separate ways."

Dean slammed his hands on the steering wheel, turned the ignition and pulled out of the rest area. "You know what, you're right. Whatever." He pushed a cassette into the radio and turned the volume up.

* * *

"Hi. I'm Castiel Novak and this is Dean Winchester." Castiel nodded to Mrs. Monroe, extending his hand to her, but she turned to Dean instead.

Dean extended his hand toward the frail older lady. She accepted it and smiled warmly. "It's lovely to meet you, young man. I've prayed that the lord would send someone to help us." She smelled a little like a mixture of mint and chalk, mingling with the scent of fresh, baked apple pie. It brought Dean fond memories of childhood visits to his surrogate grandparent's house.

Ms. Barbara and Mr. Clint had taken care of them the many times his father had to go away on business. He'd left the boys in their care. Ms. Barbara always had fresh pies cooling on the counter for their stays. Dean took his other hand and placed it over hers. "We'll do everything we can to help you and your husband, ma'am, I promise."

She finally turned and smiled fondly at Cas, motioning them to follow her. She led them into the dining room where her husband was sitting. There was a carafe and four mugs sitting on the table. He briefly looked up to acknowledge them. "They all think we're crazy." He mused as he stood up to pour steaming liquid into the cups. He calmly started adding cream and sugar to the coffee. Two of each in Cas', and two sugars, one cream in Dean's and slid the mugs to them.

Dean and Cas stared at him, carefully taking the offered drinks. "It told me how to make your coffee." He sat back down in his seat and looked between the two of them. "So, now that we've established that I'm not a senile, old man, how do we get rid of this son of a bitch?"

"I wish it were that simple, Mr. Monroe." Cas took a sip of the coffee and nodded. "Perfect… But whether or not we believe you, has no bearing on what we can accomplish here. It's…"

Dean put a hand on Cas' forearm to hush him. "What he means, is that we already believed you before we got here." He looked at Cas and narrowed his eyes. "But we have to figure out exactly what this thing is, before we can decide how to deal with it."

"No offence young man, but I know what this thing is. It's an evil, filthy, abomination and it will kill anyone who tries to stop it."

Mrs. Monroe rolled her eyes and rubbed the old man's back lovingly. "Harold, be a dear and go fetch my jewelry box from the dresser." Mr. Monroe rolled his eyes in a mirror image of hers, but got up with a huff.

"Of course, Dear." The tone was mocking, but the small, barely there smile on his face, made Dean grin from ear to ear.

"Crotchety old coot." She waved her hand to shoo him, then turned to Cas. "Dr. Novak, you told me that you had to do some electronic readings of some sort?"

"Yes, EMF. I need to gather some baseline readings so we can…"

"Yes, yes of course. Well, go along then, I'm gonna borrow your friend and show him my garden." She used the same shooing motion on Cas that she had with her husband. "If it's okay with you, of course."

Dean smirked at Cas' scowl as Mrs. Monroe pulled him up by his elbow and threaded her arm through his. "Well, don't just sit there. Go, do readings. I'll take good care of your handsome young man."

Cas got up and glared at Dean but softened his expression to one of mild annoyance before looking at Mrs. Monroe. "He's all yours. By all means, take him." He got up and opened his case, knowing that the interview would never get done and things were not going to go well.

* * *

Mrs. Monroe led Dean away. "Good lord, that man is a lot like my Harold." She laughed and Dean couldn't help thinking what it must be like to grow old with someone, loving them despite flaws or quirks. It was sad that they had to deal with monsters after a life of hard work and freely given love.

He nodded at her. "Cas is crotchety. I agree." He looked back to wink at Cas who was still giving him an incredibly dirty look while pretending to set up equipment. He couldn't hold back a quiet laugh as Mrs. Monroe led him out the back door. Serves his superiority complex right. Intimidating, his ass. Dean smirked at his own inner dialogue.

"You know, the kind like him; they feel so much that they build a dam to hold it all back. And boy, when that dam breaks… look out."

Dean laughed. "I'll be sure to carry an umbrella then." His smile faded and he turned to her. "But really, the guy hates me. I can't seem to do anything right."

She patted his back. "Well, stop trying so hard. You shouldn't have to work for affection. Make him work for it instead."

"Not the first time I've heard that this week."

"Well, then it must be pretty good advice." She entwined his arm in hers again and led him around the corner.

"I doubt he'd work very hard for it, though." He spoke, mostly to himself as he let her lead him. "He'd prefer that I just leave him alone." He looked down as his feet. "That's what I intend to do when we're done here."

"Let me tell you why I wanted you to see my garden." She pulled him along. "I grew up in this house. It belonged to my grandmother. She tried and tried to grow a garden. Every day she'd work out here, weeding and watering. The silly old lady even tried talking to them. The poor thing just couldn't make the magic happen." She wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled.

"After she passed, I inherited the place. In her memory, I had the ground prepared and scattered a few seeds and planted a few bushes and what not." She pointed to a small statue surrounded by rosebushes of every color Dean could imagine. "I set that angel out for her. Gram loved angels, said one day we'd all get a set of wings. Well, I'm not much for yard work, mind you, so I just left it alone. Low and behold, this is what bloomed. It blooms every spring, not a bit of help from me."

Dean looked out over the rows and rows of brightly colored flowers. He had no idea what kind they were, but there had to be hundreds of them of every shade imaginable. It made the backyard look more like a fairytale than a middle class suburban home.

She turned to him and placed her hand over his. "So you see, beautiful things bloom when you least expect it. Sometimes you just have to look away."

He led her to a small bench, nestled between two cherry trees and the two of them sat down. "How did you know? I mean, about me? Am I really that obvious?"

"It's in the way you look at him when he's looking away."

Dean glanced at her suspiciously, an eyebrow raised. "That's it? A look? No secret demonic information involved?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand in hers. "Would you believe me if I said that secret angelic information may be involved?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "No, absolutely not."

Just as a sarcastic remark was about to come out of Dean's mouth, Mr. Monroe came around the corner holding a wooden box. "Didn't mean to interrupt the flower gazing, but here's your jewelry box. Damn thing was underneath a pile of junk." He set it down next to her and walked away without another word.

Mrs. Monroe grinned at him and pulled the box into her lap. She opened it and pulled out a small silver medallion hanging from a thin silver chain. She turned it over in her hand. "This is St. Michael's medal. He's the patron saint of your kind. He'll keep you safe. All you have to do is ask him."

Dean looked down at the piece of jewelry and frowned. "I wore one of those, once upon a time." He traced the medallion with a finger, but drew back. "I stopped believing in its power a long time ago."

"You believe in demons, so by default you must believe in angels. Evil can't exist without goodness. Darkness has no meaning without the existence of light." She reached around him and secured the necklace around his neck.

Dean fingered the small charm. Memories of another life, one he walked away from, flooded his thoughts. "Thank you, but I can't. Cas said we can't wear these kind of things…"

She rolled her eyes and tisked. "Whipped already." She pulled the neckline of his shirt collar out and dropped the necklace below the fabric where it couldn't be seen. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Dean smiled and nodded, accepting that she wasn't gonna take no for an answer. And she had a point. It wasn't like Cas was gonna do a strip search or anything, not that he'd mind…too much. He smiled even wider at the thought. "Thank you. As much as I hate to, I have to go back in there and help Cas draw the layout of the house, do readings, and other technical stuff he's insisting on. He patted her hand with his free one. "He really is incredibly crotchety."

"Aww, say what you mean; he's a dick."

Dean laughed and stood up, extending his hand to help her up. "Yes ma'am, he is."

She laughed, but eyed him curiously. "If he's such a dick, why do you like him so much? Handsome young man like you could find someone else. Sure he's attractive, but there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"Maybe I'm tired of fishing."

"Or maybe you don't know the answer, so you respond with one-liners." She raised an eyebrow to him.

He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you really, Yoda disguised as a beautiful lady?"

She laughed. "You better mind your compliments, young man. Flirting with old ladies can be dangerous. You run along and do your technical stuff. I think I'm gonna sit out here a while."

"Sure. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No. I'm good, but thank you."

Dean smiled and turned to walk back to the house. "Dean." Mrs. Monroe called out to him and he turned back around to see her smiling, the afternoon sun framing her small figure. "You don't really annoy him, but you do scare him a little." She winked and turned back to the small statue and her flowers. Leaving Dean more than a little confused.

* * *

"It's about time." Cas stopped packing his gear to look at his watch. "Everything has been done while you were out smelling the flowers."

"You got the layout too?"

Cas put the last piece of equipment into his case and closed it up. "Yes Dean, drawing boxes isn't that difficult."

Once he got everything together, Cas extended a hand to Mr. Monroe. "It was very nice to meet you. We'll return Saturday afternoon with a third person to conduct the actual investigation. Please tell your wife that it was a pleasure to meet her as well."

Mr. Monroe grinned at Cas. "I think she was the one who got the pleasure this afternoon. My Ruthie loves flirting with other people's boyfriends." He winked at Dean who nearly snorted, laughing so hard.

"Excuse me?" Cas glared at the poor old man who seemed incredibly proud of himself. "He is not my boyfriend."

Mr. Monroe put his hands up and forced the smile from his face. "Okay, okay. Settle down, it was just a joke." He shook his head in disapproval. "Damn son, if I have to tell you to loosen up, you must be pretty bad off." He walked away huffing. "and people call me crotchety…"

Cas glared at Dean and pushed him out the door. "I hope you can control your amusement long enough to drive us home."

Dean laughed, pinching Cas' Cheek. "Aww honey, did that mean old man embarrass you?"

He swatted Dean's hand away. "He didn't embarrass me in the least." He walked around to the passenger side of the car and got in.

Dean followed suit, still grinning as he adjusted the mirror. "Dude, you turned three shades of red."

"Yes, anger does have that effect on me."

"Yeah, whatever. I just hope you learned your lesson." Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "See, I told you I could teach you a few things, professor."

"Really? And what lesson do you think you taught me?"

"Just because you find me adorably intimidating, doesn't mean everyone else will."

Cas rolled his eyes. "I don't find you either adorable or intimidating." He raised his eyebrow and stared straight at Dean. "I find you annoying."

Dean smiled, remembering Mrs. Monroe's words. "Whatever, you crotchety old coot." He started the car and turned up the volume on the radio, completely ignoring the life-threatening glare he was receiving from the passenger's side.

* * *

Mrs. Monroe walked up to her husband and put her arm around his waist. "They're nice boys, Harold. "This doesn't feel right."

He threw his shoulder around her arm and patted her gently. "I know. But we have no choice."

"Don't we?" She pulled away and looked out the door. "We had a choice. I'm afraid we've made the wrong one."

"It's them or us, Ruthie." He sighed and walked away, his head bowed. "It's them or us…"

* * *

About ten minutes passed before Cas finally had enough of the satisfied smirk that seemed to be permanently etched on Dean's face. He reached forward and turned off the radio. "You may think this is funny, but I said we do things my way and you agreed."

Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I was doing it your way. It's not my fault that the client didn't want to do it your way."

"There was a list of questions that needed to be answered, Dean. Correctly guessing the amount of cream and sugar to put in coffee does not prove a malevolent entity is present."

"Cut the bullshit and stow the OCD. I'm about at my limit of letting you treat me like some delinquent and I've taken about all the shit I'm gonna take from you." Dean sighed. He didn't want to fight with the guy, but damn if the son of a bitch didn't push every freakin button he had. He took a deep breath. "Look, all those questions were just designed to find out if they have a few screws loose or are on drugs or something, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I got your answers without turning it into an interrogation, which usually only closes people off anyway. You get either nothing or lies."

Cas looked at Dean seriously, for the first time since they'd met. "Okay. So what did you deduce, Sherlock?"

"Mrs. Monroe is the likely target. She's flighty and highly prone to suggestion. And, there's also the possibility of some seriously creepy, psychic crap. She's the weaker link."

"You got all that from her garden?"

"No, you dick. I got all that by listening to her. Maybe if you'd stop pretending to be such a hard ass, you'd have learned something too." He looked at Cas for a split second, expecting a scowl, or dirty look. Instead it looked like Cas was actually interested in what he was saying. Well, that was new. "Look man, these are people. Stop treating them like a science experiment."

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" If Dean didn't love his car so much, the shock of those two words might have caused him to wreck, right there and then.

"I'm sorry. You're right. But to do this…I need to be as detached as possible." He swiped a hand through his hair and continued, his voice quieter. "You saw what happened last time. I did not walk away from that unscarred. I'm dealing with this the best way I know how. It's another reason I wanted Sam to come instead of you."

"What are you talking about? Sam would have checked out the old lady's garden too. Hell, he'd have probably made flower crowns for their hair or something."

"You're wrong." Cas knew that Dean was more familiar with Sam than he was, but apparently he lacked sufficient self-awareness. "Yes, Sam would have been both kind and polite, it's his nature, but he would have stayed on task. He wouldn't have felt the need to bond with her. Sam can remain professional." He saw the frown come over Dean's features, knowing he was misunderstanding his meaning. "I'm not saying that you a delinquent or unintelligent, far from it, but Sam is more focused on results. Your focus is guided by your heart. It's a distraction."

"Sam is much smarter than me."

Cas nodded. "Sam is more book smart than you, yes. But you are intelligent in other ways. Intelligence isn't measured in math equations alone. But, you're missing my point."

Dean glanced over to Cas again and shrugged. "No, I got your point. I'm just choosing to ignore it, if you don't mind."

Cas huffed, but smiled. "Of course."

"Good. Now that we got that cleared up, just so you can say you've been warned; touch my freaking radio again, and I'll break your damn hand." He reached down and turned the radio back on, lowering the volume considerably. The small grin on Cas' face gave him a hint of hope that maybe they'd finally reached a truce. Either that or the guy was silently planning ways to kill him and dispose of the body before they got home.

**AN:** _Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think. I should have Chapter 6 up in a few days._


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